Little Nightmares
by gothic lolita darling
Summary: When the Winchesters' were kids Sam used to have nightmares, and being the only one around Dean was always left to deal with them, it's always been his job to protect his baby brother from the monsters even the imaginary ones.


It was the third night in a row Dean woke up to Sams' blood curdling screams from the next room and the third night in a row Dean had no choice but run frantically to his side because he knew the one night he didn't would be the night something truly awful happened. It was also the third night in a row Sam had stubbornly insisted Dean sleep on the couch in the miniscule hotel living room as if he wanted to prove some misguided point of independence; but surely that was just coincidence.

"Sammy." Dean gasped as he stumbled to a halt.

Sam sat straight up, looking remarkably small enshrouded in the queen size bedclothes, his eyes peering out over the edge of the ugly comforter. He just looked at Dean for a long moment.

"I-I'm sorry Dean." He stammered barely above a whisper as he seemed to shrink back even further.

"It's fine Sammy. Another nightmare?" Dean leaned back against the nightstand. Sam nodded his head ever so slightly. "They're not gonna get you, I won't let them." Dean ruffled his brothers' hair affectionately, Sam leaned into his touch and looked up at him trustingly. Another expression flickered across Sams' face briefly, Dean sighed trying to hide irritation, he knew that look.

"Get up I'll fix it."

Sam hesitated and glanced around all the corners in the room and under the bed before he looked like he was even considering releasing his hold on the comforter and putting his feet on the floor. Dean just scooped him up and planted him on the nightstand blanket and all, feet safely out of monster territory; and set about stripping the bed of the wet sheets and rearranging all the other blankets so Sam wouldn't have to sleep on the itchy mattress, he would complain endlessly otherwise. Sam watched him quietly, his guilt evident in his face despite the fact only a small part of it was visible.

Dean smoothed over the finishing touches on his makeshift sheet, "It's fine Sammy, I'm not mad I know you can't help it, it's not your fault." He picked Sam back up off the nightstand and laid him back down prying the comforter gently from his hands to tuck it under his chin, even the children of hunters were not completely immune to the innocent notion of the covers offering some sort of safety. Standing at the edge of the mattress he waited to hear if Sam wanted him to stay, honestly being in the other room put him on edge he didn't like the thought of something malicious slipping past him to find his brother alone, the possibility of not knowing what lurked in the shadows of the room.

"Dean. I don't like the monsters." Sam had already sunken back into his linen cocoon.

"No one does Sammy."

"I'm scared Dean. What if they try to get me?" Sam appeared to slowly be sitting up again.

"I already told you, I won't let them get you."

"But why are there so many monsters?"

Dean ached to be able to tell him the monsters weren't real, to let him be childishly ignorant like he should be. But he couldn't lie like that. "I don't know Sammy. But I'm gonna protect you from them, always, I promise." He pulled his brother close, hugging him tight petting his hair wishing more than anything that he could protect him from everything bad in the world. Sams' skinny arms came up to embrace him back, not entirely understanding his brothers suddenly intensity.

No longer waiting for an invitation Dean climbed in under the blankets, just as he'd thought the bed was plenty big for both of them with room left over. Sams' silence as he shifted just a touch closer to his brother suggested he didn't mind, probably would have asked him to anyway.

It didn't take Sam long to fall back asleep, comfortable in his faith in his brothers protection and his hazy understanding of how close evil always was. Dean laid awake longer, wondering why it was always on his shoulders to be the responsible one, why their dad never could seem to figure out how to really be a dad. If he had been the one to respond to Sammys' screams he would have scolded him for causing panic over nothing. Made him take the sheets off himself and sleep alone on the bare mattress and wash them in the morning, maybe would have shoved his face into it like a naughty dogs and screamed. Dean looked down at Sam as he slept, even appeared to be slowly moving closer, maybe it was a good thing he was the one who was always around, he didn't really know what his mom would have done and it seemed like he might even have to protect Sam from their own father sometimes. He finally started to doze fitfully, always watching out for the next nightmare even in his sleep, be it imagined or real.

**Authors note: So I admit I'm not actually done watching supernatural yet so this is kinda based on what I know so far, but I just had to write it I couldn't get it out of my head. also I generally hate kids so let me know how I do writing them or if anything seems wildly inaccurate as far as the show is concerned. It was also written at three am on a kindle so I apologize for any glaring spelling or grammar issues.**


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